New Blood
by The Lonely Padawan
Summary: Dracula has escaped Mary and Simon, and now searches for another soul belonging to him. Meanwhile, as Anna nears her sixteenth birthday, strange things are happening to her... She's extremely photosensitive and hates garlic. What's going on? EG's title
1. Chapter 1

**Onyxx: I edited this first chapter, because now that it's been a while, I'm starting to picture Mr. Harker (Quincey) as Heath Ledger. Call me crazy, but I'm absolutely serious. (Rest in peace, we'll always love you, and even if you're dead, I'm still stalking you.)**

**Dracula: ... That's... That's creepy.**

Chapter One:

Simon held Mary's trembling hand as they looked at the shattered mirror in Abraham Van Helsing's old office. Aramaic symbols glared at them, written in the blood of the security guard in front of them.

Mary looked at them, her lips quivering, her eyes wide with shock. _"Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood," _she whispered, translating them.

Simon had almost forgotten Mary's ability to read Aramaic that came from her father having taken the blood of Dracula over a century ago. "How did he escape?" he whispered, looking around as though the monster was in the very room with them.

Mary sat down in the armchair, holding her hand over her mouth. "What do you think he means?" she whispered, looking up at Simon. "What is he after this time?"

Simon knelt next to her, taking her hand between both of his. "I dunno," he said softly, pulling her into his arms. "But we've got to find him and get rid of him—for good this time."

Mary felt a lump rise in her throat as she leaned against Simon's chest. She felt so afraid, afraid that _he _would come back, that he would come after her again. She knotted her fists in Simon's button-down shirt and cried, praying that Dracula wasn't coming after her.

* * *

Dracula sank his fangs into the police officer's throat, blood gushing into his waiting mouth. He had escaped that confounded place once and for all—and if Simon or Mary came after him, there would be hell to pay. Literally.

He dropped the corpse at his feet and walked away, the London fog welcoming him like a blanket as he made his way to the harbor. He had a boat to catch.

He was going back to New Orleans.

* * *

Anna put her head down on her desk, closing her eyes. The algebra test had been easy—now if only they'd let her go home about five hours early.

Sadly, they wouldn't.

She sighed, taking out a worn, dog-eared copy of Bram Stoker's _Dracula._ It had been awhile since she'd last had the chance to read, and she had thirty pages to go.

She made it about three lines when the bell rang, and she grabbed her books, practically running out the door to her next class.

She put her stuff down on her desk in Latin, then waited for the rest of the students to show up.

"Hey, Goth Girl!" Connor Yarborough called. Anna and her friends called him Yargerburgerblah behind his back. "So how did you become goth?"

She rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of dyed black hair behind her ear. "The magical goth fairy sprinkled me with stardust, Connor, and that's how it happened," she mumbled sarcastically.

"Seriously, how?" After she didn't answer him, he asked a new question. "So are you an atheist?"

She closed _Dracula_, looking up at him with a glare. "I'm a Christian, Connor, but to idiots like you, I'm a Jewish Nazi."

The entire class jumped and put their hands to their ears as a loud screeching sound erupted. Yargerburgerblah raced to his seat comically, and Anna looked up to see what had caused that God-awful noise.

Her heart immediately stopped beating as she saw what had to be the most gorgeous creature on Planet Earth glaring back at the class with beautiful blue eyes. The man was young, in his early twenties at most, and had long blond hair. It was extremely curly, and brushed his jawline around his face.

"I see everyone is present," he said softly, doing a quick headcount. Anna nearly fainted right then. His accent was almost a cross between "Northern" and English.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, softening, before it hardened and he looked at the rest of the class. "I am your substitute teacher while Mr. Gautier is … ill." Amusement flashed in his eyes before he continued. "I am Mr. Harker." He whirled gracefully to face the board, picking up a piece of chalk and writing his name in loose, flowing script. He turned to the class again.

Mr. Harker smiled and said something in a foreign language, but none of the class understood it. He sighed, seeing the blank stares. "Pity, this is a class on dead languages," he said, turning to the chalkboard. "I am not Roman, but I am fluent in several of the Romance languages."

Yargerburgerblah raised his eyebrows. "So does that mean you know how to say 'I love you' in every language?" he asked.

Mr. Harker turned back to him with a blank expression. _"Te amo, je t'aime, ich liebe dich, _and so many more I've not the time to recite. But no, that's not what speaking a Romance language is. Can anyone tell me what I mean when I refer to 'Romance languages'?"

Anna raised her hand involuntarily, and Mr. Harker pointed to her. "A Romance language is one that is deeply rooted in Latin," she explained, "such as French, Spanish, and Romanian."

Mr. Harker's eyes twinkled. "Now can you tell me why English isn't considered Romantic?" he asked softly.

"English isn't considered Romantic because though we derive over sixty percent of our vocabulary from Latin, we also have words from Greek and Spanish and French that we've adopted."

He clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Come up here and take your choice of candy for being the only one able to answer simple questions about things you went over at the beginning of the year."

Yargerburgerblah's eyes lit up at the mention of 'candy.' "I want some candy!"

Mr. Harker narrowed his eyes. "Fine then. During the age of the Romans, Connor, what was the capital of Italy?" he asked.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows. "Umm …"

Mr. Harker nodded in his direction. "And that is why you can't have candy, Mr. Yarborough."

Ten minutes passed of Mr. Harker's brutal teaching method. However, Anna didn't mind—she already spoke Latin fluently.

She sighed, scratching the inside of her wrist. It had begun to itch frequently, almost as if she had a rash. She looked at her arm, scratching again. It did no good—it still itched furiously.

She sighed, finished with the worksheet Mr. Harker had handed out, and pulled her book out again. She barely noticed when Mr. Harker stood over her, checking her work.

"Excellent," he said in her ear. Anna jumped, blushing, before he put a hand on her shoulder. He paused a moment. "What's that you're reading?" he asked, leaning down next to her.

Anna flipped to the cover so he could see the bold printing of the simple word—simple, yet feared above everything else.

Mr. Harker smiled knowingly. "_Dracula, _eh?" he said softly. Then, he continued moving down the rows.

The bell rang, and Anna rushed out of class, happy—yet sad, also—to be out of Mr. Harker's presence.

Sad because he was so indeniably cute.

Happy because, strangely, she felt she knew him—and their last meeting hadn't exactly ended on good terms.

* * *

_Flashback_

Bella's wickedly vicious smile almost made the shadowy figure regret his agreement—almost. He smirked further, staring at his two most loyal followers.

"My lord, we swear our first daughter to you!" Vikas vowed, taking the Count's hand and kissing the dragon ring.

Count Dracula sneered. "And if you don't have a daughter?" he asked softly.

"Then the first daughter of our bloodline!" Bella's voice was desperate. "But promise us—promise us eternity, master!"

The Count's sneer became a wicked grin. Even Renfield hadn't been this loyal for the promise of the rats—he'd 'ratted' him out for the sake of Madam Mina.

The Count took her hand in his and kissed it. "But first, you need my blood," he said softly. "The first daughter of your line cannot truly be mine—not unless she is born with my blood."

Bella's eyes widened gleefully. Dracula was disgusted by these people—obsessed with the occult, even madder than Renfield had been. Poor, poor Renfield—but he'd served his purpose.

Dracula gave them a goblet of his blood, and they each drank. Now, the child born of them would belong to him, and, if need be, that child's children, until a daughter was conceived.

The Count's wicked grin grew even wider when Bella's screams of labor reached his ears as he left. He could smell the man-child, but he knew, one day, a daughter would be born.

_I have walked the earth for _centuries! _In search of a soul, not bitten, but _born.

Dracula snapped out of his flashback as he wiped his lips of the blood that stained them. His most recent meal, a doctor from the same asylum he had visited nearly a decade ago, lay dead at his feet.

He looked up, his sizzling green eyes examining the huge Gothic house, where the young woman, he knew, lived.

The breeze brought him her scent—lilies, the flower of funerals, and lavender. He lifted his face to the wind, closing his eyes.

He opened them again, flashing red. "Soon, my princess," he whispered, then he turned on his heel, his trenchcoat swirling in the cool October wind, and disappeared onto a rooftop.

* * *

Anna sat at her window, reading the sequel to _Dracula,_ written by Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt. She had barely gotten to the third page when she had the eerie feeling of being watched.

She looked out of the window and almost fell out of her seat. A man stood across the street, staring up at her window. His curly, dark hair blew around his face in the wind as he simply watched her. Anna blinked, and then … he was gone.

She looked at the book with narrowed eyes, then closed it.

"That's what I get for reading vampire novels at night," she grumbled, crawling into bed and turning off the lamp.


	2. Chapter 2

**Onyxx: I have a new story idea, but I'll wait until this one is done...**

**Dracula: What's this one about?**

**Onyxx: … Not you, so keep your nose out of mah biznis.**

**Dracula: … Is it that Kids Kicking Cancer fundraising thing on GB Dot Net that gave you the idea?**

**Onyxx: … Maaaaaaaaaybe. Maybe not.**

**Dracula: … You are just OBSESSED with Gerard Butler, aren't you?**

**Onyxx: I never said I wasn't.**

Chapter Two:

Anna tossed and turned in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered behind her lids.

_Anastasie …_

She groaned, turning onto her side.

_Anastasie …_

_ My Anastasie … my princess …_

_ Come to me, Anastasie …_

Warmth surrounded her, warm darkness. The shadow held her in its arms, warm and gentle. And that name, that strange, funny name … she'd heard it somewhere, she was sure of it.

_Anastasie …_

The wind whipped her hair around her face. Her dark black curls were tugged around her face. The blanket on her shoulders seemed to have a life of its own. Her white dress flapped around her legs. The wind was chilly.

_How the hell did I get out here?_

_ Ana … stasie …_

Strong, warm arms wrapped around her. Anna jumped, startled, then leaned into the embrace.

"My princess," the voice said. Deep, slightly accented, and erotic, the sound of the shadow's voice seemed to swallow her whole. She felt warm and safe and loved.

A hand held hers, then the other trailed down her side to her leg.

"My princess," he repeated, pulling her into his chest from behind. The Shadow's lips were at her ear.

Anna sought his hand, clutching it, as his lips went to her neck.

Two sharp fangs pricked her skin, and she gasped, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

Her shoulders were shaken by the hands of her mother, and Anna opened her eyes drowsily. "M-Mom?" she grumbled.

Her mother looked worried. "Anna, you were having a nightmare!" she said. "Come on, honey. Breakfast is ready."

Anna tossed the comforter off her legs, sitting up. Her mother started to leave the room.

"Mom?" she called.

She turned. "Yes?"

"My … biological parents … What did they name me? Like, they were French, right? Or something? What was my real name?"

Her mother tapped her chin. "When we adopted you, your name was something like Anastasie Victoire," she said. Her mother then turned and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Onyxx: I hate camping.**

**Dracula: Oh, stop complaining. You're out of the house, you're getting fresh air, and you're spending quality time with your family.**

**Onyxx: I'm in a freezing camper, the 'fresh air' smells like shit, and each individual of my family is madder than a March Hare. I have a right to complain.**

Chapter Three:

Quincey Harker sighed. "Bloody hell," he muttered, looking at the picture in the paper.

_VAMPIRE SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN._

Could the New Orleanians come up with worse headlines?

Probably not.

He sighed, tossing the paper into the trash. He made his way to the church, ignoring the hunger in the pit of his stomach.

He walked into the confession booth, crossing himself and asking God for forgiveness for what he was about to do.

The priest on the other side cleared his throat. Without speaking, Quincey broke through the screen that separated them, grabbing the priest by the throat. "Tell me where I can find Mary Heller," he growled, his fangs elongating.

Father David, for once, felt mortal terror. (**… I just seem to like abusing poor old Father David …**) "I-I don't know!" he stammered. "Oh, God in Heaven, what are you?"

Quincey growled, letting go of the priest. He staggered out of the booth, walking to the huge doors of the cathedral. Without turning around, he stopped, shouting back to Father David, "I am God's deadliest warrior." He pushed the door open and walked out into the night, leaving the priest crossing himself and praying.

* * *

Anna walked into Latin, putting her books onto her desk, and sat down, sighing. She felt so sleepy … Why was it so bright in here?

Mr. Harker came in, looking paler than usual and having deep circles under his eyes. His cheekbones were more pronounced than they were yesterday, and he looked just as tired as she was.

He sighed, looking around. "Mr. Yarborough is absent today?" he said, phrasing it as a question, though it was more of an observation.

He began the lesson.

* * *

Connor groaned, opening his eyes drowsily. He felt light-headed and nauseous, and he didn't want to move.

He realized he couldn't move. "What the …" He was chained to a wall, his arms suspended over his head. He tugged in vain, wondering if he could break the heavily rusted chains.

A shadowy movement to his left alerted him to his surroundings. He was in a dark, damp dungeon that smelled of mold and rot—and something vaguely metallic. The movement, he noted, was caused by …

A colony of bats that flew close together, fluttering and shrieking as one unit. They floated in the air, forming a shape, vaguely human.

The bats became one—a man with curly black hair, black pants, a pair of black boots, a black shirt, and a black trench coat. The sight of the man cloaked in black with pale skin reminded him vaguely of Goth Girl back home.

It was then that Connor noticed the man's eyes. He stepped into the moonlight, his green eyes rimmed with blood-red. The red seemed to spread to his pupil, then over the whites of his eyes.

Petrified with shock and fear, Connor could only gape as the man took a predatory step forward, snarling, his gleaming fangs bared.

As the man neared, Connor realized he was going to die.

He let out a fearful girlish scream as the man—no, vampire—came ever closer.

He put a finger over Connor's lips, stopping his scream.

"Dignity … Connor," he said softly, seemingly scolding him. Connor's eyes widened—and he screamed again, blacking out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Onyxx: BAAH! (sobs)**

**Dracula: … What's wrong with you?**

**Onyxx: They … they …**

**Dracula: Go on, spit it out! Why are you crying?**

**Onyxx: … THEY KILLED MY BABY!**

**Dracula: … WHUT? I didn't know you had a baby …**

**Onyxx: Not a real baby, doofus. They took "The Twin Brother I Never Had" and rewrote it for a "phanwank".**

**Dracula: What did they do?**

**Onyxx: They made Gerry and Erik look gay and Gerry stupid.**

**Dracula: … I WILL CUT THEM. Imma go eat them, just you wait til I get my hands on that … that … GRRRR!**

**Onyxx: (sobs) Why? Why did they kill it? That was one of my favorite ones … They could have taken my **_**Legion**_** fic or the **_**Devil May Cry**_** one!**

**Dracula: (goes off to search for the person that destroyed "TTBINH."))**

Chapter Four:

Anna sighed, picking at her food. The scent of garlic was too strong—it was unappetizing. Which was weird—Anna had always liked garlic.

She put her fork down and looked at her parents. "May I be excused?" she asked, feeling sick.

Her parents dismissed her, and she went upstairs, flopping onto her bed. She closed her eyes, falling asleep easily.

She'd been having the dream over and over, and waking up right as the Shadow had been about to sink his fangs into her neck. She stood over the balcony of some European castle, the wind whipping her hair around her face. As expected, the Shadow returned.

Only this time, he had a face.

Anna gasped involuntarily when she saw him. He had dark hair that curled around his jaw, pale skin that emphasized his emerald green eyes and red lips. His eyes had a ring of blood red around them, and they seemed to glow in the moonlight. He looked around thirty, but from the wisdom behind his deep eyes, he was obviously so much older.

_"Anastasie," _he whispered, his voice sending chills up and down her spine.

"How do you know my real name?" Anna asked as he approached. She kept her eyes on his face without meeting his gaze—she'd read how vampires can hypnotize. She backed away fom him. "What do you want from me?"

He was suddenly right beside her, his hand on hers. "Oh, my Anastasie," he whispered, his lips at her ear. "My princess …"

She leaned into him before jumping away. "Don't avoid me," she said. "What's your name?"

He tilted her chin up to look at him, and Anna couldn't tear her gaze away from his eyes.

"I have many … but we are all so much more … complicated … than our names."

Anna gasped as he came closer, his lips almost touching hers. "Wh-who are you?" she breathed, unable to think.

He exhaled, his breath stirring against her lips. She desperately wanted him to kiss her.

"Everything I am is yours … and all you are is mine."

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed tenderly against her cheek. "Stop … stop being so … vague …"

He chuckled, his lips vibrating against her throat. "Is it not obvious to you who I am?" he said softly, kissing her hair.

Her arms draped involuntarily around his neck. "D-Dra...cula …" She gasped as he kissed her collarbone in affirmation.

Anna's fingers tangled in his hair, the smooth texture of it making her mind fuzzy. Dracula, for that was who he obviously was, trailed kisses back up her throat, then his lips touched hers for the first time.

Anna gasped. It was her first kiss. It seemed electric—a current seemed to draw them closer together. His tongue brushed gently against hers, guiding her; obviously he had much more experience in this realm. She melted in his arms until he was the only thing preventing her from falling off the balcony.

"Anna! Anna! Wake up, honey."

Anna opened her eyes to see her mother wearing a concerned look. "You were having another nightmare, darling," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Are you sleeping well?"

Anna blinked. "Uh, yeah … I'm fine, Mom."

Her mom smiled gently, stroking her cheek. "Okay. If you want anything, just yell for me, okay?"

Anna nodded, smiling reassuringly at her mother. "Mom, I'm fine. Don't worry. It was just a … bad dream."

_Yeah, right,_ Anna thought as her mother left the room. "That was the best dream ever," she said softly to herself, flopping back against the pillows.


	5. Chapter 5

**Onyxx: I am such a terrible person.**

**Dracula: What makes you say that?**

**Onyxx: I haven't updated in MONTHS.**

**Dracula: It's okay, we still love you.**

**Onyxx: Well, hopefully, this chapter will make up for the weeks of not updating.**

Chapter Five:

Quincey slammed his hands down on his desk, running his hands through his hair. "Why the HELL didn't you tell me this before?" he thundered, whirling around and throwing a piece of chalk at the board. It shattered into a puff of powder from the force behind the throw.

"I didn't feel the need to tell you until now," the shadowy figure in front of him said.

He whirled around again, pointing an accusing finger in the face of the man. "You didn't feel the need to tell me that a girl in my classroom is being targeted by Dracula? That, despite my efforts and Abraham's efforts, there is still a carrier of his blood that he wants? You didn't feel the need to tell me?" He picked his supervisor up by the collar of his shirt. "You didn't think it might be a good idea to tell me that I might have to _kill_ a teenage girl?"

The man's cold blue eyes glared up at him, and with a push to Quincey's chest, sent the much younger, much less experienced boy into the wall. "The darkness in her has not completely taken over. It will not take her over, if we intervene."

"The 'darkness,' as you call it, took over my mother! His blood made her turn her back to God and my father and join him in his sick existence!" Quincey raged. "Am I to face off against his blood and his kin alone?"

"No," said a new voice. Quincey whirled to see a young woman with short brown hair and dark eyes set in a pale face.

He sneered, turning back to look at the other man. "This is what you give me? A woman? What's she gonna do, seduce him so I can stab him in the back with a stake?"

In a single instant, the woman had Quincey pressed to the wall with a stake to his own back. "You forget, Mr. Harker, that in today's society, women are considered equal to men."

"Quincey, this is Mary Heller-Van Helsing," his supervisor said, smirking. "Abraham's daughter, who carries Dracula's blood. As you can see, she overcame his curse."

"Blood filtered through leeches!" Quincey snarled, his face pressed uncomfortably to the cold wall. "And now, after I spent _years_ searching for you, you show up and decide to partner with me? What the hell?"

"I was in London protecting Dracula's remains."

"Apparently, you didn't protect them too well!" Quincey pushed her away and looked at his boss. "What about Simon? Still in London taking care of Carfax Antiques, or is he going to stop being such a—"

The cold steel of a kukri blade was pressed to his neck. "Just a little note, mate. Never, _ever_, fuck with an antiques dealer." Simon stepped away, allowing Quincey some breathing room.

The latter looked back at his boss. "What's next? Santa Claus and his magic sleigh?"

"Sadly, no." The older man chuckled, then looked out the window at the rising sun. "Dawn approaches. Quincey, remember your vows to eradicate all vampires... including yourself." With that, he was gone.

* * *

Anna locked her bedroom door and pulled the curtains over the windows. She had a massive migraine and had already made it clear to her mother that she was _not_ going to school today. Besides, with Connor Yarborough missing for two months now and his friends thinking she had some voodoo doll with their names on it, she was sure school would be hell for a long time.

She heard her parents leave the house and sighed, crawling back into bed, immediately falling asleep. She had not dreamed of Dracula in a month, and she was starting to... miss him. Perhaps this sleep would be different...

* * *

As Anna slept, her curtains rose in a breeze that obviously wasn't there. The sky outside darkened to an almost-black, and the wind picked up. Rain began to fall, and a fog spread over everything.

Moving seemingly like it had a mind, a cloud of mist approached Anna's window. It slipped in through a the crack and seemed to move and change to the shape of a man. He materialized, wearing all black, his skin so transparent that black veins were visible through it. His blood-red eyes turned to a warm gray-green, and Dracula sat on the edge of Anastasie's bed.

He'd found her. The daughter born with his blood. She belonged, rightfully, to him.

He brushed a strand of curly black hair from her face with chilly hands, and smiled softly as he looked at her. A vein pulsed in her neck as her gentle heartbeat throbbed in his ears. Dracula leaned close to her neck, inhaling the scent of lilies. So pure, so beautiful...

He bit down on her neck, her sweet blood coating his tongue. He took a long drink, savoring her taste, and pulled away, the wounds healing instantly.

Anastasie's eyes opened blearily, and she moaned softly, bringing a hand to her neck. "Dra... cula?" she mumbled, trying to sit up.

He looked into her eyes, holding her by the back of her head, and cut his neck with a fingernail. "Blood of my blood... flesh of my flesh." He gently raised her to drink from him.

Feeling his essense sucked from him by this gentle girl was ecstasy. Dracula nuzzled her, interrupting her drinking, and lay her back down on her bed. "Sleep, Anastasie," he whispered, closing her eyes and brushing a drop of blood from her lips. "Sleep, so I shall awaken you when you are ready..."

He pressed a gentle, loving kiss to her lips, fading into mist, then went back out through the closed window.


	6. Chapter 6

**Onyxx: Just so you guys know, I'm already starting on my Valentine's Day _RocknRolla_/Gerry fic!**

**Dracula: You know Gerry's gonna kill you.**

**Onyxx: … And? Since when do you care?**

**Dracula: Uh, since "The Song I Sing At Funerals?"**

**Onyxx: … Ohmaigod.**

**Dracula: What?**

**Onyxx: … I totally forgot... we're… married. O_O**

**Dracula: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.**

Chapter Six:

Anna rubbed a hand against her sore neck. It seemed to throb right over the jugular, and felt feverish... until she touched it. It was icy to the touch.

Something was terribly wrong. Why was Connor's best friend, Colin Cobb, suddenly looking like a snack? For one thing, he probably tasted like crap. For another, he wasn't exactly a Big Mac. He was, in fact, human—though she was pretty sure a mad scientist had swapped his brain out for a monkey's at some point or other.

She grabbed her books a half-second before the bell rang and scurried to Latin. She... needed to talk to someone.

About halfway down the hall, Anna's eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed to the ground in a faint. Everything went black.

Suddenly, she felt like she was locked in a tight space. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She wasn't uncomfortable. She just felt... dead.

Suddenly, the lid of her... coffin... opened, and light from the fading sunset poured in. A man with white hair, though his face seemed far too young for it, held a kukri knife above her. She tried to scream, but she didn't even feel pain as he plunged it into her chest.

What... was happening?

She looked into the man's face, and she saw... Mr. Harker? What?

"Anna?" a voice called. A cool, wet... something... was pressed to her forehead. "Wake up, honey." It was the school nurse, Mrs. Owens, that leaned over her, concern in her gentle brown gaze. "You fainted in the hallway. Mr. Harker carried you in here. Are you alright, sugar?"

Anna sat up, rubbing her head. "F-fine," she mumbled, her hand drifting to her throbbing neck. "Just a little thirsty."

The nurse handed her some water, then sighed. "I have to go. Mr. Harker will stay in here and watch you—it's his planning period now, and I need to go to the coach and give him some health textbooks."

Mr. Harker stepped in as Mrs. Owens left, and his gentle blue gaze turned serious and cold as he looked at Anna. "What did you see when you fainted?" he asked, closing the door.

"What are you talking about?" Anna asked, narrowing her gaze.

Mr. Harker took a predatory step forward. "You've been having dreams of a man in black, haven't you? Tall, dark, handsome. Sharp teeth." He smirked as he saw the flush spreading over Anna's cheeks. "You're a terrible liar. That's a good thing." He knelt in front of her. "Anna, I'm here to help you. That man, that thing... is evil to the core. He wants blood, Anna. He's dark, sinister, and vile."

"You don't know him," she whispered. Her eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Your first name is Quincey, isn't it? Quincey Harker..."

"'Named after our little band of heroes,'" Quincey whispered. "Yes. I am Quincey Jonathan James Abraham Harker. My father was Jonathan Harker, my mother Mina Harker. When I was thirty years old, I was attacked by a vampire and forced to join the dark ranks. However, another vampire rescued me, and taught me every weakness of Dracula's. I've dedicated my life to hunting down vampires. Once Dracula is dead, I will then destroy myself."

"Why? Why must Dracula die? He never actually harmed anyone in the book," Anna protested. "Maybe a few people. He was good friends with your father!"

Quincey laughed. "You shouldn't believe everything you read, little girl. Dracula isn't even Romanian. He's Jewish." He sighed. "His real name is Judas Iscariot. I don't know much about him, but my friend Mary does. She's like you. She was chosen by Dracula ten years ago to become his queen, but she resisted him because he was going to make her kill her friend, Simon. He's escaped, and he will do the same to you."

Anna shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No. NO! I don't believe you!" She jumped off the cot and nearly made it to the door when he caught her by the arm. Before he could convince her to stay, she pushed him away, apparently harder than she'd thought—much harder. Mr. Harker went straight through the wall into the small bathroom of the nurse's office.

Shocked by her sudden inhuman strength, Anna opened the door as gently as possible and ran down the hallway to her locker, shoving her books inside. Before she could be stopped, she ran through the front doors of the school and all the way home.

Her parents weren't home, she noted, and she ran up to her room, opening the curtains and letting the light stream in. It hurt her eyes, and she had to close them again. She ran into her parents' room and grabbed her mother's rosary.

Her skin sizzled, and she let out a cry of pain, looking at the cross-shaped burn mark on her palm through eyes blinded by tears. Falling to her knees with a whimper, Anna pushed the rosary away with the toe of her boot.

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered, crawling back to her room and into her bed. She curled into a ball, whimpering.

A mist came through the crack of her window, and Anna looked up in fear as an icy fog covered her. She sat straight up, not knowing whether to scream or not.

The mist came together to form a man—Dracula. He sat down next to her with a concerned look on his face. "Anastasie," he whispered, his voice snakelike and seductive. "Why do you cry?" He reached a hand to her cheek to wipe her tears away.

Anna flinched away from his touch. "How do you know my real name? Why are you after me? What do you want?" She crawled into the corner of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, and picked up the can of Mace from her bag. "Don't... don't come any closer, or I'll mace you right in the goddamn eyeballs!"

Dracula chuckled. "You want to know what I want?" he whispered, coming closer despite Anna's threat. He took her hands in his gentle ones and kissed them. "I want you, Anastasie. I want you to be my queen." He pulled her into his loving arms, holding her close.

Anna felt herself relaxing in his chest, and sighed. "Why me? Why not someone beautiful and rich and perfect, like Kelsey Hall?"

"Because someone beautiful and rich and perfect like Kelsey Hall..." he whispered, "... is nothing compared to you."

"I'm not beautiful. I have the flattest chest in the South, the pastiest skin in North America, and absolutely no feminine curves. My hair is dull and dry and frizzy, my nose is big—"

"You don't have a big nose. You have beautiful hair, skin, and curves. And you have something that only three other people alive have." He smirked, and leaned close to her ear. "My blood runs through your veins. You were born to be mine. A century ago, your ancestors gave me the promise that the first daughter of their bloodline would belong to me. You were mine before you were even born."

That sounded slightly creepy to Anna, but she nuzzled into his chest. Creepy in a romantic sort of way. "So I can't choose not to be with you?" she asked softly.

He pulled away slightly, tilting her chin so she faced him. "You are free to choose whatever you want, Anastasie," he whispered. "Do you not want me?"

In a swift movement that neither of them anticipated, Anna had Dracula pinned to her bed, straddling his waist, and looking into his warm green eyes.

"I do want you," she whispered. "I choose you."

Dracula suddenly had her flipped over beneath him, and he pressed his lips to hers gently. "Then... you shall have me," he said softly.

Anna tangled a hand in his dark curls, kissing him passionately while working at the buttons of his shirt. Whether it had been the right choice or not, she'd chosen to be with this dark stranger that promised her blood and darkness... and all the pleasure she'd been denied her entire life.

He awakened a new being in her, something she hadn't known was there.

"This is my choice," she whispered in his ear, pulling his shirt away to reveal his bare, muscular torso. "I made this choice for me, and by God, I'm sticking to it."

* * *

Quincey sighed and slammed his fists down on his desk, making Mary and Simon jump at the sudden noise.

"Anna didn't listen," he said softly, staring at the glass of water in front of him with a glare that could probably shatter it if he stared long enough. However, Simon's remark made him shoot his laser beams of eyes at him.

"She's a teenage girl, she probably thought you were coming on to her or something," Simon had said. He didn't back down from the death glare—he'd probably seen worse. After all, he'd beheaded the love of his life when she tried to kill him. Would he really be afraid of the Evil Eye?

Quincey increased his demonic glare on Simon, to no avail. Apparently, no. He wasn't afraid of the Evil Eye.

He sighed and slumped back in his chair. "If Dracula goes to her and turns her..."

"Then there's nothing we can do except hope and pray that he releases her like he did Mary," Simon said. "Wonder if we can get him in that same situation? Hang him from that same building?"

"Doubt it," Mary said. "I bet they took that cross down now."

"Glad you two are having fun with your chat," Quincey snapped angrily, slamming his fist down again. "There is a teenage girl right now that is probably becoming a vampire, and what are we doing about it? Sitting around and going on about a neon crucifix! For Chrissake, we need a _fucking_ plan!"

"Calm down, mate," Simon said. "Dracula can't be killed. Ever. Until he's forgiven for his sins against God. So what can we do?"

Mary sighed. "I can't help but blame myself for this," she whispered.

Simon stared at her blankly. "How is Judas's betrayal of Jesus your fault, Mary? Huh?"

"I blame myself because I didn't give him the chance he could have had to be forgiven," she whispered, tears choking her voice. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened..."

"He was acting like a bloody teenager not wanting to go to church," Simon pointed out. "What could you have done? Brought it up at breakfast, while he's sucking someone dry? 'Oh, Drac, hon, why don't we try getting you forgiveness from God?'"

Quincey, annoyed, sighed and held his head in his hands. "What can we do?" he whispered. "We can pray. Pray that God keeps Anna safe and prevents her from doing something exceptionally idiotic."

"Such as sleeping with the enemy," Simon piped in.

* * *

Anna groaned as she woke up that night around three a.m., stretching and finding herself pressed against a hard, cold-yet-warm body that was unmistakably male. Dracula's hand found hers, and he pulled it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"How are you feeling, princess?" he whispered, his voice husky in her ear.

Anna smiled softly. "Sore," she mumbled, snuggling close to him. "Sore, but in the good way."

"I did not injure you, did I?" Dracula asked, concerned.

Anna nuzzled his neck. "Of course not." She yawned and stretched again. "I'm... thirsty..."

Dracula kissed her throat. "I am not shocked," he whispered. "The vampiric nature inside you has been awakened. You thirst for blood... and blood you shall have, my princess."

Anna bit her lip as Dracula gave her another kiss on her neck. "But... I can't... kill... someone... I don't know..."

"You won't have to," Dracula whispered.

"I can't... hurt... someone who hasn't... done me harm..." Each kiss on her throat made her take a sharp gasp of breath.

"Again, princess, you won't have to." He smirked, then stood, grabbing his clothes and slipping them on quickly. "Get dressed. Tonight, you feast on the blood of a killer."

Anna stood and ran to her enormous walk-in closet, pulling out a short Tripp skirt and a black tank top, and got dressed quickly, feeling Dracula's burning gaze on her the entire time. Feeling rather flushed, she turned back to him. "Where are we going?" she asked, remembering to grab her combat boots. She zipped them up quickly, then returned her gaze to him expectantly.

"I hope you aren't afraid of heights," Dracula said, smirking, and took her hand. He opened the window, and climbed out on the balcony, taking Anna with him. He pulled her into his chest, and held her close as two large bat wings jutted out of his back (**Yeah, I know, I added that bit. I just felt like it.**). With one powerful downstroke, they were in the air, flying over New Orleans.

Anna had never been this high up. She loved it—yet, at the same time, wanted to puke. She buried her face in Dracula's chest as he flew over the Gulf, and then the Atlantic.

It seemed to take hours, but they arrived in a stormy part of Europe. Strangely, a cloud had seemed to follow them and cover them, but perhaps it was his ability to control the weather. He dropped down in a castle and allowed Anna to regain herself.

Almost immediately after standing, she fainted into his arms.

She'd discovered she didn't like heights very much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dracula: No. No no no no.**

**Onyxx: What the hell is wrong?**

**Dracula: We're not married. Different story, different situation.**

**Onyxx: Okay... whatever you say... honey.**

**Dracula: (steals Quincey's death glare and magnifies it by a million times)**

**Onyxx: It's not working. Besides, if I die, who's gonna finish the story?**

**Dracula: … Good point.**

Chapter Seven:

Mary's jaw dropped. "So I wasn't the only one he wanted?" she asked after hearing Quincey's story of all he knew.

Quincey shrugged. "As far as I know. Right now, there are only four people that have his blood. Me, you, Anna, and Dracula himself."

"Wait, so let me get something straight," Simon said, leaning forward in his chair. "Dracula is after Anna because her ancestors promised that he would have the first girl of their family line? What's so important about Dracula having a bride? Doesn't he have, like, three?"

"Dracula hasn't taken any brides since the last three, during your time," Quincey explained. "For one thing, he doesn't have time. He's had to keep hunting her, he's spent his months seducing her to the darkness. Between sleeping during the daytime and taking one life a week, he hasn't had any time to take any extra brides. Besides, Anna probably wouldn't like it if there were any other brides in the equation. Think about it. She's a modern girl with modern ideals. If she's gonna date a guy, she doesn't want him to have three other girlfriends, does she? No. He knows he'll have to sacrifice some of his old customs or lose his queen."

"Why does he even want a 'queen'?" Simon asked. "He's got it all. He's already the progenitor of the vampires."

Quincey looked at him blankly and was about say something sarcastic when Mary cut him off.

"He's lonely," she said softly. "He wants someone to love him."

Dark memories of his mother clouded Quincey's mind. He grit his teeth. "Why does he choose so many women? Why doesn't he just give it up? Nobody loves a monster."

Mary gave him an accusing look. "He's not a monster, he's just..."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "By definition, a vampire is a monster. He is evil, cruel, and he killed your father, Mary. He killed your father, he caused the death of your best friend, and he almost made you kill me. He would have turned you into a cruel monster, too, Mary."

Mary sighed, her eyes betraying her sympathy for Dracula. "He thinks he's a monster, but..."

"If he's not a monster, what is he, Mary? He sold Jesus out for money, he's killed millions of people over the centuries, and right now, he's probably corrupting a minor." Quincey sighed before continuing. "If that's not a monster, I'd hate to see what you call Charles Manson or Adolf Hitler."

"He's not like Manson or Hitler!" Mary protested. "He regretted what he'd done! He tried to repent as he hung from that cross when the sun hit him! I saw the look in his eyes!" Tears fell down her cheek. "He saved my life, you idiot. When I would have been burned by the sun as well, he let go of me so I could be protected, then released me from the curse."

"He killed my father!" Quincey thundered. "He killed my father after stealing my mother from him! He's a damn womanizer! He would have turned you into a corrupt bloodsucker just like he is!"

"Just like you are?" she countered, raising an eyebrow. "You said that Dracula is a monster because he's a vampire. What are you, a rainbow pony?"

Quincey clenched and unclenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "You're right. I am a monster. But I'm not a cruel, evil bloodsucker that would sell out my friend or impregnate another man's wife right in front of him. I have _fucking_ morals. I am _not_ like my father."

He stormed from the room, kicking a chair over as he went.

Mary sighed and leaned back, running a hand through her hair.

Simon frowned. "What did he mean? I thought Jonathan Harker was a good man. Quin's always bragging about him like that."

Mary sighed, not answering him, and shook her head. She knew that Quincey did not mean Jonathan Harker.

* * *

Anna moaned softly and rolled over in her bed, reaching for the alarm clock. Her hand met thin air, and she opened her eyes blearily. This wasn't her room. This wasn't even her house. She sat up, looking down at the silk sheets that perfectly matched her blood-red satin dress. Her hair was pulled into a fancy updo, and dark black curls fell down around her shoulders.

She stood, her bare feet meeting icy cold stone, and looked around the room, trying to remember what had happened the night before.

Dracula had taken her to the dungeons of his castle and let her feed on a man that had killed a few kids. She hadn't really had a problem with it, considering he'd been a murderer, but it had disturbed her nonetheless.

She still didn't know who had dressed her. She hadn't seen this dress before, and she wondered if Dracula had put it on her.

As she was about to open the door, someone else knocked before walking in. She was a stunning woman, with long blond hair like spun gold and skin the color of milk. She was, in fact, so inhumanly beautiful, it was almost ugly. When she turned to Anna with a smile, she had fangs.

"Well, well, if the little princess hasn't woken up," she sneered, her eyes turning blood red. Her voice had a Romanian accent. "You know, I never understood what made you or that Mary girl so special. I and my sisters have waited for him since we discovered his guest snooping around! All he does is reprimand us. Yet he stares at you adoringly, lovingly..." The woman had been walking forward the entire time, and now Anna was pressed against the wall as she stroked her cheek in a predatory way. The way a cat plays with a mouse. "His little Anastasie." She sneered, then bent her mouth down to Anna's throat. "I haven't tasted his blood in a long time... and you smell so sweet..."

Anna, held immobile by a paralyzing fear, could only tremble as the woman opened her mouth to bite into her neck. She clenched her eyes shut, praying for it to end soon.

Just then, the woman was jerked back by her hair, a snarling Dracula behind her. He jerked her to his side, one hand wrapped around her throat. "Get. Out," he growled, his fangs gleaming in the light of the waxing moon.

Whimpering, the vampire woman ran out of the room and down the hallway.

Anna slumped against the wall, and Dracula came to her side, wiping away the blood where the woman's fangs had grazed her neck. "My princess..."

"Who was that?" she whispered, looking up at him. "Why was she here?"

"She was my bride," he whispered, "one of three other than yourself."

"So I'm just another concubine?" Anna stared at him accusingly, scooting away. "I'm just another girl for you to have?"

Dracula shook his head, coming closer. "You're not like them," he whispered, taking her hand. "You are my queen. You will sleep in my bed every night, you'll sit at my side, and you'll have as much voice in our kingdom as I do."

"What kingdom?" Anna asked, confused. "You're not Vlad Tepes anymore. You're just... Count Dracula."

He smiled softly. "I am the progenitor of all vampires," he said. "I am Judas Iscariot, betrayer of Christ. I was the first vampire, and I cannot die. I have searched for centuries for a soul that could free me from my curse of solitude. I have chased many women—Mina Murray, Mary Heller... and now you." Dracula stroked her cheek. "So far, of all women I've fallen in love with, only you have seen past me to find the man I once was."

Anna looked into his warm green eyes. He was right. She hadn't fallen in love with Dracula. She'd fallen in love with the shadow that held her and whispered in her ear that had been revealed to be Dracula. Even with the news that he was the reason Christ had died, she still loved him.

"I had hoped, through the centuries, that the future would hold a woman that could look at a monster and see the man within," he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek.

She wiped it away with her thumb, then snuggled into his chest. "You're not a monster," she whispered. "You're... you're just... you. You can't help what you are."

Dracula wrapped his strong arms around her.

"I... I love you," Anna dared to whisper, pulling away to look into his eyes. "I love you."

He stroked her cheek, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. "I love you, too."

* * *

Quincey picked up a lamp and tossed it at the wall. It shattered from the impact, the sound drowned out by his roar of fury, grief, and vengeance.

"I'll kill him!" he shouted, throwing more and more furniture at the wall. "I swear to God, I'll find a way to kill him! I'll fucking kill him!"

As he prepared to launch his chair at the wall, a small hand held his arm back. He dropped the chair, turning to look at Mary. Her dark eyes filled with pity, she took his hand in hers.

"Quincey..." she whispered, touching his cheek.

He turned away from her, walking over and sitting on the bed. "I hate him," he whispered, tears falling down his face.

Mary sat down next to him. "You have a right to," she whispered, taking his hand again. "I know how you feel. He killed my father, too."

"Your father hadn't raised you," he whispered. "I don't think you understand. My biological father killed the man who raised me."

Mary nodded. "I understand completely," she whispered. "I understand, Quincey."

He looked at her, finding comfort in her soft brown gaze. "Mary," he whispered, taking her hand. "How do you find it in yourself to forgive him?"

She smiled sadly. "I'm a woman," she whispered.

Quincey looked back into her eyes, his heart fluttering suddenly. "Yes," he whispered, his cheeks flushing slightly. "You are."

It seemed for a moment that their lips would meet... but the door banged open, and Simon carried in a bundle of papers. "You two better look at this," he said, dumping it on the floor. He looked around. "Christ, what the hell happened in here?"

Quincey stood and picked up a paper. "What is it?"

"He's in Romania." Simon picked up another paper. "Look at this. 'Unidentified Flying Creature Lands in Castle Dracula.'"

Quincey dropped the paper. "Come on. We have a flight to catch."


	8. Chapter 8

**Onyxx: I have a serious case of writer's block.**

**Dracula: Don't worry. All you have to do is let the words flow...**

**Onyxx: I'm in the middle of a roleplay and a conversation with an eleven-year-old Australian girl (who doesn't say 'mate,' EG, just sayin'). I can't 'let the words flow.'**

**Dracula: Then just type. That works. That's what you usually do.**

**Onyxx: … I'd like to think I have a sort of complicated sequence to it.**

**Dracula: You mean besides sitting on your butt and trying to think of a good line to type?**

Chapter Eight:

Quincey looked over at the setting sun, wearing dark glasses to shield his eyes. Despite being a vampire, he somehow had the ability to walk in the daytime. Perhaps it was the shred of human blood that coursed through his veins from his mother, or perhaps it was Dracula's cursed blood. Either way, the sun could only blind him.

He turned to Mary and Simon, his long blond hair fluttering in the breeze. "Come on," he said. "We just have to climb these stairs before the sun sets. Dracula's probably already stirring."

Mary easily caught up to Quincey, then turned back to the lagging Simon behind, waving a hand for him to hurry up. "Simon, come on. You're unusually slow."

Panting, he caught up to them. "We... still... have to climb... all those steps?" he panted.

Quincey raised his eyebrows, smirking. "What was that about fucking with antiques dealers?" he asked cheekily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Simon flipped him off, and Mary smacked his hand in a matronly way. "No fighting, boys. We have to get up there and save that girl."

Quincey looked up at the castle, then the darkening sky. "Come on. We don't have much time." He looked back at Simon, smirking. "Want Mary to carry you up there, Simon?" he asked, already starting to run up the stone steps.

Simon looked up, groaning. "Can I wait in the car?" he yelled.

"No!" Mary and Quincey yelled in unison.

* * *

Anna explored Dracula's castle, going through the throne room, the dungeons... Everything that caught her eye, she explored to the most thorough degree.

She thought she heard voices from a room near where Dracula was sleeping, and climbed up the stairs to go check on him in his coffin. No one was in there, only the long black box. She walked over to it hesitantly, then lifted the lid gently to look upon the face of her lover as he slept.

In sleep, the lines on his face were smoothed out, a slight smile on his lips. His arms were crossed over his chest, his hair curling around his face like a lion's mane.

He seemed to be dreaming about something pleasant. Anna wondered what it was.

"Anastasie," he mumbled in his sleep. A heavy blush crept over her cheeks as she realized he was dreaming about her. _Oh, my,_ she thought, looking at his full lips. How badly she wanted to kiss them...

A hand suddenly covered her mouth as another dragged her out of the room. Shocked, she tried to scream, but nothing came out.

It was the blond woman, and two other inhumanly beautiful women, one with dark hair, the other a redhead.

"My sisters and I have decided that we should rid our home of the competition," the blonde hissed, her eyes turning blood-red. "The dark lord will know what he has neglected for centuries!"

Petrified, Anna could only stare at the three vampires that wanted to kill her.

"We will rip you limb from limb," the redhead hissed, her nails turning into long claws as she gripped Anna's neck. "As a young fledgeling, you won't be so hard to kill!"

Anna whimpered, feeling the claws dig into her skin. As the dark-haired vampire bent to bite into her neck, she kicked her in the stomach, feeling a surge of new, unknown strength. She pushed the blonde and the redhead away, then got to her feet, hissing as her fangs elongated.

"I am _not_ a chewtoy!" she hissed. The blonde lunged for her, and Anna grabbed her by the hair, pushing her into the approaching redhead. She bitch-slapped the brunette and sent her flying back into the wall.

The redhead pushed the blonde away and grabbed Anna by the throat again, biting down into her flesh. Anna felt a surge of pain and survival instinct kick in simultaneously, and she connected her own mouth with the other's throat, ripping it out, blood spraying everywhere.

Dracula's door banged open, and he took in the sight with horror on his face. The horror turned to rage, and he glared accusingly at the two living brides. "What. Happened. Here."

The two brides looked at each other in fear, then at Anna. "She attacked us!" the brunette accused. The blonde nodded, wide-eyed.

Dracula walked over and picked them both up by the throat. "Funny, I'm inclined not to believe you." He threw them down, then hissed at them, "Go back to your room. I'll deal with you both later. You'll be lucky if you don't end up the same as Cosmina." He glared at them, then turned to Anna, who was still covered in Cosmina's blood.

Trembling, she found herself falling into his arms. "I killed that girl..." she whispered, terrified. "I killed her. I killed that girl."

The corpse had changed back to her original human form. She appeared to be around Anna's age, before she crumbled into dust.

Anna buried her face in Dracula's chest. "What have I become?" she whispered.

Dracula didn't answer, simply stroking her hair and wiping the blood from her face.

* * *

Quincey and Mary stood at the huge door of the castle, the moon high above them. "Damn it, Simon," Quincey growled. "We're late because of you! You should have waited in the car!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Onyxx: So, what really happened to Connor?**

**Dracula: … You don't need to know.**

**Onyxx: Seriously, what happened?**

**Dracula: I ate him, what else?**

**Onyxx: … You're hiding something.**

**Dracula: You'll find out, Jesus!**

**Onyxx: Not if you don't tell me!**

**Dracula: You're the one that's writing the damn story, YOU decide what happens to Connor.**

**Onyxx: Here's an idea: How about we let the reviewers decide?**

**Dracula: Okay, people. You heard it. YOU decide Connor's fate. Should he become the vampire slave of Dracula and Anna, should he be dead, or should he be saved for when Anna's feeling... snackish? And then, of course, with that last choice, Anna has to save the buttnugget's life. Also I won't update until you review. So, yeah. DOOOO EEEEET.**

**Dracula: Alright, vote! Gogogogogogogogogogogogogo!**

Chapter Nine:

Anna sat on her bed, trying to forget the sounds of bloodcurdling screams she'd heard from the room where Dracula had banished the two surviving brides. She tried to forget the stench of blood and death...

She closed her eyes and lay down, calming her mind and trying to get to sleep. Despite being a vampire like the others, she didn't have to sleep in a coffin. Perhaps it was that she was still somewhat human, or maybe it was the fact that she was... his queen.

Queen of the vampires. To rule the world with Dracula... Wait, hold on. He'd said that they were the only vampires living at the time. What was their kingdom going to be?

"We will repopulate the vampires," Dracula said, suddenly appearing in the room. Anna jumped at the sound of his voice, then relaxed as she saw his worn, caring face. He lay down beside her, stroking her hair out of her face. "I am truly sorry that happened earlier," Dracula whispered, kissing her forehead. "Afina, Cosmina, and Camilia can bother you no more."

"So that was their names," she whispered. "Were they sisters? They looked a lot alike."

"When vampires have lived that long, they eventually start to have the same features." He sighed, stroking her cheek. "You won't look like them, though. You're different. You were born with my blood."

She sighed and snuggled closer to him. "I wish... I wish we could both just be..." Anna pulled away and looked at him. "Human. I wish we could be human together, grow old together... change... have... children..." She looked away, tears blinding her.

Dracula stroked her cheek, turning her back to face him, a mournful look in his eyes. "I wish we could, too," he whispered. "God won't forgive me."

She looked into his eyes, searching the green pools, and kissed him gently. "Did you ever ask?" she whispered, running a hand through his hair gently. She kissed his cheek, his forehead, and his neck, holding him close. "He still loves you. He loves all of His creations."

Dracula kissed the top of her head. "Perhaps."

He held her close as the sun rose over the horizon, coming in through the huge window. It lightened the room without actually touching them, and she fell asleep in his warm arms, wishing there was something she could do.

* * *

Quincey and the others sat in a corner shaded by the castle, leaning against the wall.

"Tired," the two men groaned at the same time.

Mary nodded off to sleep on Quincey's shoulder, and he looked up at Simon. "You take first watch," he said softly, making sure he didn't wake Mary up. "Wake me up at noon."

Simon nodded and stood, stretching, then walked away.

Quincey rested his cheek on the top of Mary's head, taking his trench coat off and draping it over her shoulders. It got cold in the Carpathians, and he didn't want her to freeze.

Mary moaned a bit in her sleep and snuggled close to him, her arms around his middle. "Quincey," she mumbled, opening her eyes groggily. "Back in New Orleans... were you about to kiss me?"

Quincey looked down at her, sighing, and took his glasses off. He hesitated before answering. "... No," he lied, his arm around her. "Just go to sleep, Mare."

She nodded, obviously still half-asleep, and nuzzled into his chest, as if his answer hadn't mattered.

After seeing the way Jonathan had loved Mina, Quincey was afraid to fall in love with Abraham's daughter. It would kill him if he lost her, echoing his parents' legacy. He ran his fingers through her fine, short hair, then stroked her cheek gently. After everything he'd been through, after hope had been squashed out of him at a young age... he found it again in Mary. She was strong, stronger than he was, and found it in herself to forgive Dracula.

Despite his hatred for the vampire, he wished that he, too, could find it in himself to be able to forgive. Knowing that wouldn't happen, however, he sighed, shaking his head, and pulled Mary closer to warm her. It was, after all, very cold in the Carpathians.

Her warm breath stirred against his neck, and Quincey stroked her hair.

"I was, actually, about to kiss you," he admitted softly.

Mary chuckled softly, obviously only pretending to be asleep. "I know," she whispered, hugging him closer. She nuzzled his neck, then placed a tiny kiss on his cheek, softer than the brush of a butterfly's wing. Mary then found rest in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Quincey smiled before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Onyxx: So, the vote is unanimous! Connor is a snack. Curse you people, I wanted him to just die and be done with it. Anyways, no, he's not dead.**

**Dracula: Poo. You guys take all the fun out of it.**

**Onyxx: If this isn't what you meant, then, well, at least it'll be comical. =D**

Chapter Ten:

Anna looked up at Dracula, smiling, as they stood at the top of a tower, staring at the moon. This was where her dreams had taken place.

Dracula held her hand, turning to her. "This place is where I first came to you in dreams. It is fitting that another important thing takes place here." He took her hand, placing it over his heart, and put his hand over hers. "It is fitting that we should be made one here, that we should unify ourselves once and for all."

Anna looked into his eyes, seeing only pure love in his gaze, and smiled at him.

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Anna... Anastasie... my princess... my queen..."

She closed her eyes, her other hand over his, still pressed to the place above where her heart beat. "I love you," she whispered, the wind caressing her skin gently.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "You are my queen, my love. Let us become one, with only the moon and stars as witnesses. We will be together forever, in secret. We will stay in the world of shadow and exist only in fairytales."

"The lonely king and his long-awaited queen," she whispered, agreeing.

"And I have waited for you, a very long time." He smiled softly. "Anastasie, I—"

"Don't move, or I'll push you off the turret," a voice said. They whirled to see Mr. Harker—Quincey—and two others, a man and a woman. "This is where it ends, Judas." Quincey's blue eyes were cold and hard as steel. "This is where Anna gets her life back, and where I avenge my father. Mary's father. The countless dead from the centuries that cry outrage at you still living off their blood. Their children's blood."

Dracula shook his head at Quincey. "Quincey..." he said softly, looking into the boy's eyes.

Quincey growled, suddenly appearing right before Dracula with a stake at his chest. "It's over," he hissed. "I'm not Quincey Harker anymore."

"You never were," Dracula said softly, remorse covering his features. He looked at Anna, petrified with terror, then at the woman nodding to the latter. "Take her," he said softly. "Don't let her see this, Mary."

The woman, Mary, gently grabbed Anna and tried to pull her away. That was when the fear and rage kicked in. It took both Mary and the man, Simon, to pull her way, kicking and screaming, tears falling down her face.

It couldn't end like this. It wasn't fair.

"No!" she screamed, sobbing. "No! It's not fair! _It's not fair! _Please! Don't, please!"

* * *

Quincey looked into his father's eyes, rage gnawing at his chest. "You killed my father," he accused, growling.

"He killed himself," Dracula whispered, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"It was your fault nonetheless! If you'd left my mother alone—"

Dracula sighed, then looked at Quincey. "I am sorry," he whispered, a tear falling down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Quincey."

Quincey looked into his eyes, trying to fight away the warm feeling in his chest and the tightness in his throat. He blinked, then shook his head. "You don't mean that."

"I do," Dracula said softly, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "I am sorry. I ask only for your forgiveness, my son. I ask that you forgive me for everything I've ever done."

"God can't even forgive you, what makes you think I can?" He kept his tone clipped and spiteful, but he regretted saying those words.

Dracula chuckled mirthlessly. "Perhaps you are right, Quincey." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Then kill me. Do it, Quincey."

He looked at the stake, then at the man that was the cause of all the misery in his life. Why didn't he just end it now?

_Kill him. He's evil. Cruel, viscious, ruthless. He's a monster._

_ He's a man looking for forgiveness... He's no different than me._

_ He's a demon._

_ He's my father._

Why didn't he do it?

Because he forgave him.

Quincey dropped the stake, then wrapped his arms around Dracula. "Father," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. He whimpered, hugging him tightly.

Dracula put his arms around his son gently, then sighed.

A moment later, they jumped away, feeling something happening inside them they couldn't explain. Dracula looked at his hands as they sickly white changed to a darker color, his natural tone. Quincey's own skin became less pale, and they looked at each other in shock as their fangs shrank back into their gums—quite painfully, as the teeth continued to change and reshape. Quincey's eyes flashed to a white-blue, then back to the original color as he continued to change.

"What's happening?" they said in unison.

* * *

Mary let go of Anna as the girl doubled over, in a sort of pain. Her deathly pale skin darkened slightly, and her teeth hurt like she'd just been punched in the mouth by someone wearing brass knuckles. A moment later, the pain was gone.

She looked at her hands, then at Mary. "What... what's going on?"

"You're human again," the man—Simon—said. "Something's happened. Quincey's killed him."

Anna's eyes widened and filled with tears. "Wh-what?" She stood and ran back up the stairs.

She was met with the two men staring at each other in shock.

Mary was behind her, and she ran over to Quincey. "What happened? Quincey, you're... you're human again!"

"It wasn't God that needed to forgive you," Quincey said, looking at Dracula. "It... it was me!"

"I think we had to forgive each other for past sins," Dracula said softly. "You had to forgive yourself for being what you are."

Anna ran over to Dracula and wrapped her arms around him. "Is it over?" she whispered.

He smiled and held her close. "It's over," he whispered.

A familiar voice groaned from the doorway, and Anna turned around, incredulous.

"Can we all go home now?" Connor said, rubbing the back of his head. "I've been stuck in a dungeon for the past two months! He said something about saving me for a snack." He pointed accusingly at Dracula.

They all laughed, and Simon patted Connor on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate," he said. "You won't remember a thing." He hit him in the head with the metal shotgun, and he fell unconscious.

Mary punched him in the arm. "You're carrying him down the stairs!"

_

* * *

Three years later_

Anna dumped Jude's laundry in a basket and carried it to the laundry room on her hip, nearly tripping over Luna, the cat. A soft giggle came from the other room, and she smiled when she saw him with their young son, whom they'd named Jonathan Abraham.

"Be careful, don't let him get hurt," she called.

Jude laughed. "Hurt? Princess, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Being human, Dracula needed an identity. Now, he was Jude Caulard (an anagram of Dracula), and Anna was his wife.

Quincey and Mary settled down and now had a daughter, named Matilda Rose Wilhelmina Harker. (**Like the Heath Ledger reference there? =3**) Simon had been named the godfather.

Anna never found out what happened to Yargerburgerblah. All she knew was that he had no idea where he'd been the two months he was missing, and that he didn't make it into pro baseball.

She neglected the laundry to sit down on the couch with Jude and Jonathan. She smiled, looking into his eyes. He'd seen the world grow and change, watched it turn while he stood still.

Now he turned with it. He was growing and changing, though his face didn't show it. He was still just as beautiful as he'd always been.

Anna smiled, then took his hand. Jonathan rested against his chest.

This was how it had been meant to be.


End file.
